Time to Shine
by redhouseclan
Summary: When 24 year old Aria flees from a killer she is transported to Middle Earth.Waking to partying Hobbits, she meets a young Bilbo Baggins & discovers that sometimes life and fate turn the tables. Being given the chance to save the line of Durin, Aria pledges to protect them with her life. Traveling w/13 dwarves, a hobbit, and a Wizard has never been more fun!ThorinxOC
1. Chapter 1

_Wow. Okay my lovelies. This is my very first fanfiction, try not to hang me by my toes or feed me to the eels, okay? (L. Snicket throwback!) I was inspired by many more brilliant fanfic writers: who have either crushed my soul into oblivion and tossed the remains into the sun or made my eyes dry into craisins (I abhor raisins) and have my feels go into extreme hibernation. Either choice is very good and recommended. *Rubs hands together* Let's do this! Enjoy!_

_Tolkien's masterpiece not mine,all rights to him. Aria is my baby though._

Chapter 1- Fundamentals of Being Clumsy and a Terrible Swimmer

I never in my wildest dreams expected to end up in Middle Earth or as the locals keep reminding me Arda. Insert eyeroll, please. I mean as a recent fangirl of the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings trilogy I knew my expectations were going to be major in the ways of the land and travel. Ugh, remind me to tell Thorin about the wonders of the bicycle. The only transport I know how to build, I mean come on me? Build a car? I am sooo not Tony Stark.

Anyways, as I was saying ending up in Middle Earth wasn't _my _idea. You have to ask Gandalf that, he told me all about how it was my destiny and all this talk about the Valar choosing me to save the line of Durin. Okay, okay, okay it was more of "Miss Aria *_strokes beard, Gandalf is such a diva_* I do not know why the Valar has graced us with your presence though I am quite sure there is a reason you are here. Now _please_ stop bombarding me with odd questions of the going price of Kingsfoil." Then he huffed and walked away, leaving me gagging on the smoke of his oh-so-precious-smoke-ring.

Let me start by telling you how I came to be known as the Walker in the Stars. Don't laugh the hobbits gave me that name.

May 4 2014

3:30 AM

I've never been able to sleep, the doctors called it a case of extreme insomnia. So choosing instead to lay around re-reading books I've read a thousand times or doing crazy experiments inside my tiny one bedroom apartment, I decided to go for walks around the park. I know, pretty crazy shit happens when the sun goes down and not necessarily for the better.

My birthday so happens to be today, I will be 24 years old in approximately an hour and a half. I'm not much of a celebratory person, I never got the whole idea of holidays or birthdays. It's mostly because I've never truly had a family or even the emotions to convey my acceptance of a gift. If I ever received one, of course. Gathering my usual gear and attire for my daily walk, I inspect my bag.

As usual I always carry my red Osprey backpack filled with: a first aid kit, two pocket knives, my little journal where I jot down random ideas, my sketch book, lots of sharpies, candy and craisins (I love those suckers), pocket microscope, rope, and multiple gadgets. I'm surprised my back held up this long. My mom once told me of this story where a woman's car broke down in the middle of nowhere and she didn't have any emergency gear. So she ended up surviving by drinking leaf water (how refreshing, not really, I mean only 4 drops per leaf?) and eating bugs until the rescue services arrived 4 days later. Thus my OCD of always carrying my bag everywhere I go. As I was locking up my phone started to buzz.

"Hello?" No answer. "Sean if this is you I am soo going to spill soda all over your keyboard and eat all your Hotpockets," I say with a grin.

"GAH!NOO! Okay it's me babydoll. I give, Uncle, you win, have mercy. All I ask is that you bury me with my hard drives and a nice pepperoni pie. Happy Birthday my most beautiful and clumsy friend!," said the lanky somewhat taller version of Q from the Daniel Craig (drools) Bond movies.

"Ha-haha-aha, thanks Sean I appreciate it, you're the only one to do so for the last 17 years. So what gives with the early bird call I was just on my way out?" I say walking down the 20 billion flights of dilapidated stairs with a Hotpocket in hand. Gods I need to get a gym card or maybe not, eww germs.

"What? Out in this time of day? Dude have you not heard the news? It's been all over the T.V., the web, the blogs, the forums, the pa-" I cut him off, "Slow down there papi. What news?" I admit to not being very fond of watching the news, I rather prefer to watch cartoons and Cinemax, err for Strikeback ya know?

"There's a guy running around town who escaped from the hospital, apparently he's wanted for 7 murders. Dude, he totally slashed and ate them. So far police think he's hiding out in the park near you," Sean sounded really worried, he never has any other emotion besides hyperactive or starving.

"Umm…Sean you did say this park right? As in the one I'm standing in?" I ask stopping in the middle of the gravel pathway halfway through the park, choking down a piping hot piece of cheese. I am a pretty fast walker, but ask me to run I'll choose to lie down. _Horizontal running, coach!_

All quite on his end, I mean if a serial cannibal killer dude is all it takes to shut him up it's my royal flush! My metaphors don't make sense but then again I never do.

"Dude, I'm serious. I'm headed over right now. Get back to your apartment and lock the doors. Be careful and watch where you're going," he warns me with the tone of an older brother. Sean has been my best friend ever since I could remember our mutual love of action movies and Hotpockets. Hence, his job as a security programmer for businesses, hello Hotpocket money! Yes, even in the midst of terrifying danger I declare my love for the delectable bundles of cheesy pepperoni goodness.

"Okay…hmm...well…I guess I'd better head back. Don't waste my minutes by yapping at my clumsiness," I say backtracking my way home. "And make me another cheesy bundle from the Heavens."

So far the sky has still remained the ever dark blue shade that Van Gogh said in Doctor Who. The lights in the park were converted to solar a while back, but some eco-freaks who were too cheap to buy solar, stole them; nothing against eco savvy people, just the cheap ones. Leaving dark patches free to the evils of the world. Which mostly consist of the occasional homeless man, who by all means isn't evil at all. I even share my Hotpockets with them!

Trekking through said Dark Patch of Evil I catch a glimpse of someone lying over someone else. Is that what I think it is? Eww! Get a room! I mentally delete the last 2 minutes. Edging closer to the Patch of Doom Take Two the little light given off by the brightest of the bright stars shows me that what I thought was a randy couple in heat, was actually the serial cannibal killer dude! Gasping a bit loud, I blame my childhood asthma, he turns around to stare and me. Freezing in place, trying to catch my breath , I shift my weight to my left foot. Lefty for life! His eyes burn a hole straight through me, still shifting my weight preparing to sprint for my life, his head starts to oscillate like a snake's does. He stops and gives me the chilliest, most dead grin I have ever received in my life (apart from my 3rd grade teacher). Right then I decide to book it through the shortcut I learned from all my romps through the park. I regrettably toss my Hotpocket to the side. Hanging a right that leads down to the bridge over the river, I run as fast as I can, not yet reveling in the idea that I'm actually running pretty good for a lazy person whose idea of exercise is lifting Hotpockets and using the stairs instead of the lift. Thinking my birthday couldn't get any worse, I trip over my own feet! Scrambling up, I realize I'm about 30 feet from the bridge I glance back to see if he was still behind me, scanning in the dark does nothing for my poor heart, so I turn my head trying to catch any sound of crunching leaves and sticks. All I hear is my rapid heartbeat in staccato. I think I should get it checked. "Now is not the time Aria!" I scold myself.

I give one last glance before I make it over to the bridge, gasping for breath I don't notice a shadow looming towards me.

"Well, this is a nice surprise if I do say so myself," said a raspy somewhat elegant voice.

Freezing, I look behind me, not 5 feet away is the serial cannibal killer dude. My phone decides to buzz and let out the Sherlock theme song. I let it go to voicemail. It rings again, demanding my attention like a 5 year old. The S.C.K.D. nods his head toward my phone, allowing me one last call before he devours my beautiful flesh and makes an Aria soufflé out of me. (I am fond of being overdramatic and silly in serious situations.) Time feels like it slowed down, I take these extra seconds to look at my ending. The S.C.K.D. is fair-haired, soft curly hair marred with mud and old blood, at least 5'11, pale skin with dead blue eyes, and a crappy U2 t-shirt and a pair of plaid shorts. Not what I pictured as my Angel of Death, more like creepy cousin from the basement, but losers can't be choosers. However that goes, I don't care.

I grab my phone from my pocket and answer in a shaky voice, "hhh-hello?"

"Aria!Aria? Are you okay? You sound weird, what's going on? I'm at your place, I thought you'd beat me here," Sean says warily, his spidey-senses are probably off the charts now.

Taking a calming breath, I try to sound normal, "I'm fine, you know, just having a chat with serial cannibal killer dude. Did you know he likes U2? Too bad he doesn't strike me as a Hotpocket kinda guy, what a shame we could have had a celebratory birthday dinner," I end up screeching like a banshee in the phone. S.C.K.D. just looks at me like I've grown two heads.

Stepping closer, leaving only a foot of space between up, he whispers, "My name is Peter." Grinning like he won the lottery when he hears Sean's string of curses directed at him, he plucks my phone away and tucks it into his pocket. Stroking my hair, he tells me I smell divine.

"It's just the Italian seasonings," I mutter stupidly remembering he eats people. I get an idea, "So if you're a cannibal does that mean you eat the butts?" S.C.K.D. Peter gives me a confused look before I fling myself off the bridge into the cold, raging water. The river is so powerful it drags me under, the last thing I see before I go is the star that brought Peter to me.


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh My Odin! Was that crazy or what? Okay lovelies, in this chapter I'll describe Aria. I hope you guys like it, I'm sure it's going to have a little background of her life and how much her knowledge of Tolkien's world she can use. Experts hit me up if I screw up. Reviews are my food and my life! Wish us luck and don't burn me! Burning is only for spies and marshmallows!_

_Tolkien's work not mine, it's all him. OC is mine. _

Chapter 2- Interrogation by the Littles

May 5 2014 to me

9:35 ish in the PM I think

Feeling a large foot prod my back, I start with a cry of pain and feel a bit groggy with a massive headache. "Oww…what's the big ide- wait a flippin minute Bigfoot!" Not yet opening my eyes I freak out. My back was kicked, _my back_ with _no backpack_ on it!

I jump up swaying on my feet a bit. Slowly peeling my brown river grit filled eyes open, I see a hazy mix of green and a pack of kids. What? Who lets their kids run around in the wild without supervision?

My memories instantly start to come back, head pounding harder with each temporal lobe assault. They return with a vengeance, as if my not remembering gives them the biggest insult. Collapsing to the ground, I start to hyperventilate. I feel a tiny hand on my shoulder and a mumble of reassurance, aww! what a cute kid trying to comfort me, taking a deep breath I turn around to thank the chump. Staring me straight in the face is a grown man of 40 with a height of 3 feet! Spinning around once I'm on my feet I begin to recognize my surroundings. Rolling hills-check, giant ass Party Tree-double check, little people with hairy big feet-check check, tiny round doors, gardens, and the sound of tinkling water.

"Holy Shit! I'm in the Shire!" I exclaim in disbelief. Hearing a sound of shock to my left followed by one of disapproval to my right. "I do believe that was a tad bit improper for a woman to say, though I have no idea of the meaning it did indeed sound vulgar," said a male hobbit to my right, the others agreeing with a "humph".

"Huh? I mean yes, it was, I do apologize," I say sincerely though utterly dazed and confused at my musings, "umm sorry for crashing your snazzy party and all, but may I ask where my backpack is?" I ask while describing it.

The male hobbit nods and shuffles to a table where tiny half-pints of ale are laid out. Thanking him profusely he introduces himself as, "Baggins. Bilbo Baggins. May I inquire who you are? You appear to be quite lost and if I may say, a bit not from these parts," he says a bit sheepishly. Oh My Gods! He is soo cute! Little button nose, curly bronze hair, and a jazzy outfit with acorn buttons! He backs up a few feet, I realize I was staring at him for the past 5 minutes.

The party continues on behind him as if finding a giant female human thrust in the middle of Hobbiton is a daily thing.

Still trying to come to terms with being in freaking Middle Earth, I sort of daze off and grab a few cups of ale and down them. Reminding myself that this happens in all the fanfics and nothing but a few half pints can cure. My gaze snaps back to Bilbo or as I call him Billy-Bob, he doesn't take to it. "So Billy-Bob, *cue stern gaze*, umm Bilbo, have you seen the old bag of bones Gandalf?" I ask him looking for any hint of smoke or fireworks.

"I'm terribly sorry, who?" Bilbo makes any apology-question so cute! Biting my lip, a must when I think, I figure since he has no idea who G-dog is he hasn't met him yet, and he does look a tad bit like Martin Freeman in the Hobbit movie, so Alex, I take Hobbit adventure for 10,000!

Smiling to myself whilst giggling like crazy because the idea of being in this world before the Company is together is so wild that I decide to join by any means necessary. After all, it would be the story of a lifetime!

"Oh never you mind master hobbit! All in good time! By the way what's the occasion?" I jerk my thumb towards the party. "One of the Longfoots's daughter's has married a nice hobbit lad from Bree," he answers, then whispers, "He works at the Prancing Pony Inn and seems to have taken a liking to travelers of all sorts. I'd like to travel some day, before old age gets to my bones, perhaps in a few years." He admits.

Bursting with news to scream, "BILBO! OMG! BILLY BOB YOU ARE GOING TO TRAVEL WITH THE FREAKING LINE OF DURIN AND AWESOME CUDDLY, STRONG, BEARDED MOTORCYCLE DWARVES! AND WE ARE GOING ON A FREAKING ADVENTURE! BUT YOU KINDA HAVE TO FACE A DRAGON BUT YOU WILL BE BRILLO-PADS AND KICK ASS!"

Instead I just nod and muse my thoughts before saying sagely, "Fate always gives us chances in life for adventure, it'd be best to try them all out before time decides to do it for you."

Nodding his head in agreement he excuses himself then goes off to mingle and I check my bag out and find all things accounted for, except cell service, I had to try. Walking around Hobbiton on roaming, climbing hills for signal was a bad idea. I ended up tripping over a cow pie and rolling down a hill smacking into a fence. Groaning, I get up and dust off my jeans. My attire wasn't in vogue with the hobbits, okay not at all. My getup of black jeans, leather jacket with a black hoodie, grey long sleeve and converse is so not a beautiful hobbit dress and ribbons in the curly hair. My hair was a rat's nest, after running away from a serial cannibal killer dude named Peter it actually looked a lot better. Pulling stray weeds and twigs from my black hair I realized my clothes were dry and looked practically new! Thanks timey-wimey peeps!

Remembering how worried Sean was, I start to wish that he knew I was okay and he would be so jealous of me right now! Not watching where I was going, I smack right into a hobbit! I mean my height is that of 5'4 and man, hobbits are such wee little things that he fell right over! Letting out a small "oof" I quickly grabbed his hand and yanked him up, a bit too much as he let out a yelp. Apologizing and making wild gestures I squint and recognize the acorn buttons belonging to none other than Billy Bob!

"Billy Bob!" I exclaim loudly earning a cute glare and a smile to soften it, "What brings you to these parts?"

"The wedding celebration has ended and I was on my way home, then I ran into you, pun intended." He grins.

"Bilbo I had no idea you were a comedian, I have some jokes for you! Though a bit raunchy, its so hils! Dane Cook would blush!" I say proudly, Bilbo just stares at me with a what-the-heck-have-you-been-drinking face.

Changing the subject with a question of how far the Green Dragon is, Bilbo kindly informs me that it is overflowing with the Longfoot clan and invites me to use his guest room, as we are now friends. Agreeing quickly and naming all the action movies we would watch I realize that I might never go home. Bilbo seeing my despairing look cheers me up by saying we arrived and if I would like some tea and a slice of lemon cake. Tossing on my happy food face he shows me the room, which has a warmth that my apartment never had. I instantly cheer up, unpack and find a spare set of clothes in my backpack. A pair of insulated sweats, a black windbreaker and undies, thank gods for that.

Giving a great big sigh, I jump off the wee hobbit-sized bed and head toward the delicious smell of food. Looking around I see a table piled high with books and maps of all kinds. Boy, Bilbo is sure going to be in for a surprise later. I stop to stare at the mirror above the mantle, my bronze skin is marred by a faint scar across my eyebrow ending by my ear, steeling myself to the painful memory of its making. Flashes of a dark room, a hand gripping a jagged piece of mirror, an evil grin filled with malice, the screams of my mother begging my father to leave me alone, to take her, seeing her eyes glaze over and close finally in peace, free of the violent pain assaulting her broken limbs. Blinking away tears, I see Bilbo's reflection next to mine. Giving a comforting pat on the back, he doesn't pry or ask questions, smiling he leads me to the dinning room. A nice oak table situated next to a roaring fire, I take in the smells of lemon, sugar, mint, and feel renewed and welcomed. I have found a truly great friend in Bilbo Baggins and right then I promise my life to the Gods that I will protect him by any means and make sure he comes back home.

After eating my fill of the lovely cake and mint tea, we say good night and Bilbo declares, "a new friendship means a big first breakfast!" He closes the door to which his room, I enter mine. Getting comfy under the covers, I think of the past few hours, which feel more like seconds to me. Deciding that the best thing to do is not cry and not to show weakness, just like I've always done, to just survive and take it one day at a time. Glancing out the circular window, I see the same star as the one on Earth when I left, it gives me a feeling of comfort like that of a friend. Tucking the question about the origins of the star away for Bilbo tomorrow, I drift off and dream a dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello my lovelies! I know that some chapters seem a bit short thus my promise to try to upload a bit faster, sorry for the late update work has been hectic and no wifi for the longest time! What a way to go : ( _

_New Chapter! *__throws confetti__* I did say a little background and now a bit more background to appease your curiosity. I was thinking that I'll introduce Gandalf and the gang in the next part. Yay!. Omg! I'm so excited for her to meet the line of Durin, especially Thorin! Reviews, my lovelies, sustain my inspiration._

_Tolkien's words and characters all belong to him. Only Aria is mine as is her clumsiness. Hotpocket shoutout!_

_A.N: I'm going to try to use her time until she decides to forget it and go with the flow. She's somewhat of a loner but very very loyal; Sean was her only friend, now she has Bilbo. Thunderstorm in progress, finally, its so freaking hot at night, its finally cool now._

**MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever**- as requested, here lies the new chapter!

Chapter 3- An Unexpected Story

May 6 2104 my time

6:00 AM

Bag End

Rising somewhat with the sun and chipper chirping of birds the aroma of crispy bacon invades my nose. Dressing for the day in yesterday's clothes, I have to ask Bilbo where the river is or however they clean clothes. Sure as shit they don't have electricity or the hobbits definitely would have had lasers and strobe lights for the parties.

My feet padding into the kitchen I see the mighty breakfast I was promised. Set for two with plates full of bacon, hash potatoes, scrambles eggs, berries of all sorts, warm fluffy biscuits, jars of preserve, jug of milk and a nice pot of tea.

"Good morning, Aria!" Bilbo greets walking in with a jar of honey, "sleep well? I hope this suits you til second breakfast rolls around," he grins.

"Hola Bilbo! Nice morning to ya! I slept very well thank you! This is an excellent breakfast by the way! Good on ya man!" I say stuffing a few berries in my mouth. The strawberries are so ripe I let out a little moan of pleasure. "I usually just pop a Hotpocket in the microwave to nuke for a bit, this is way healthier, I'm sad to admit," I shrug.

"Umm what's a Hotpocket?" he asks with a tilt of his head, spooning eggs onto his plate.

"I totally forgot that I'll never see a Hotpocket again in my life!" I begin slinking down into my chair as if all the world's burdens have fallen on my shoulders. Shaking myself out of my funk I begin to describe the wee pockets of heaven filled gooeyness to him. His eyes glaze over and a sudden hunger fills them until he declares, "I will attempt this feat of baking if it is the last thing I do!" he finishes with a fist pump.

Giggling to myself, I pour some more of the delicious tea and grab a handful of bacon. Deciding that fresh milk is the way to go, with its creaminess and silk feel caressing my throat, I vow to eat au naturel forever.

Drizzling honey over his bowl of berries, Bilbo decides to ask my how I came to be here. Stilling my movement of the fork, I pat my mouth with the napkin and begin my tale.

"Well, first off this may sound a bit strange. Maybe a lot strange, who knows, well I do but whatever. Hehe. So I ask that you stay silent and hold any questions until I finish, okay?" Eyes questioning, he nods in assurance.

Taking a deep breath I start off with my life before my sudden departure.

"I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico. In May 4, 1990," his sudden snap of his head catches my eyes, he gestures for me to continue, "It's basically a desert with loads of mountain ranges. I was raised an only child by my parents who met on a camping trip. So cheesy, but they fell in love and had me. It wasn't until I turned 5 that my dad started to drink and hit my mom, it wasn't long after that he started to hit me too. My mother always tried to escape with me but somehow he always found us. Realizing that escape was futile, we stayed." Memories long built up and forgotten begin to come back with renewed vitality. Suppressing the urge to runaway, I get up to look out the window. Not seeing the lush landscape, or happy faces of happy hobbits, but seeing a monster I used to love.

"He wasn't always a violent man, I think his breaking point was when he and my mom lost my baby brother. She had a miscarriage, my father always wanted a boy. He loved me but not as much as my brother," I say in a flat voice.

"Aria, that still gives him no right," Bilbo manages to say, a bit of his anger flows into his voice.

"I know Bilbo, he should have never been that weak. Grief touched us all. In his anger he beat my mom so bad, the doctor said she would never have children again. That was just adding more fuel to the fire. Where I come from violence happens in many households, some people will speak out against it but some will ignore it. The latter is more dominant in my world. Especially when the man knows where to hit so it doesn't show." I touch my back and ribs where the bruises once colored my skin.

I see Bilbo out of the corner of my eye clenching his fists and hardening his eyes.

"My mother's friends tried to help us, they once beat up my dad and tossed him out," letting a smile break my stoic façade, "I'll never forget that, sadly that was my father's last straw. When he finally dragged us home he tossed my mom into the living room, and me into the closet. Hearing nothing but screams and cries of pain, I didn't need to peek out the door because I've seen it all before. When he was done, he wretched open the door and dragged me out like a dog does its pup. Throwing me to the ground, readying his fist and belt, I shut my eyes awaiting the pain.

It never came as my mother screams for him to leave me alone, and threw herself at my dad right into the mirror on the wall." Touching my scar, so faint, one must be close enough to see it. So vivid the memory, as if I happened yesterday, I flinch when my hand makes contact.

"My scar if you noticed, is quite long, I got that in my mad dash to save my mother from this monster. This monster who had lived in the room across the hall, not under my bed. Trying to roll her off him, he grabbed a shard of the mirror intent on 'teaching me a lesson I won't forget' and sliced my face. I was lucky enough it missed my eye, falling flat on my back, face numb with pain, I saw my mother kill him with her last breath. Plunging the same shard into his chest. I've never seen so much blood before. It was as if time stopped and that's when I realized that I was truly alone." Wiping a tear that fell onto my cheek, I feel soft fabric being pushed into my hand, a handkerchief. Smiling at Bilbo's sweet gesture, I dry my eyes.

"When the police arrived, I could see pity in their expressions, I've never liked pity or feeling any type of weakness from myself or from others, I flew into a rage and they had me tranquilized. I woke up in the hospital two days later with the social worker right beside me. She put me in a few foster homes, I didn't want a new family, I just wanted my mom back. Right there I decided I was meant to be alone, until I met Sean when I was seven, he's my best friend and was my only one until I ran into a certain hobbit." Bilbo beams brightly that I include him as a best friend.

Turning from the window I feel warm arms wrap around me. Enveloping in his warmth and caring nature, I hug him back. I hold back my tears, knowing once they are free they'll never stop flowing. Giving a great big sigh, we part after a while, feeling oddly light and free I ask to see the garden. Bilbo readily agrees and we walk out the freshly painted green door. Stepping foot outside the house I feel as if life has just begun and I intend to make the most of it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Salutations my lovelies! I just had to write again! Wild wargs couldn't keep me away from the lovely luscious locks of Thorin! *__**coor!we all love it**__* How dark did that last chapter get, huh? Good thing Bilbo is there to offer his warmth and friendship. You can always count on him, the little cuss. I'm going to make this an uber long chapter to make up for the previous short ones, so happy birthday! Enjoy and please tell me what you think of it and what you would like to see happen, I might just consider it ; )_

_Sam Smith- Stay With Me is soo on repeat for the last two weeks straight, the mood and tone is givin me major feels about this pairing… be ready for some serious, heart-wrenching feels in the near future._

_All hot dwarves, adorbs Hobbits and Hobbit related thingy-ma-bobs are property of Tolkien._

_A.N.: Peter the serial cannibal killer dude is no way related to Peter Jackson, I just needed a name that ended up evolving from Pepe to Pete to Peter. Don't ask, I'm telling you anyway hehe, I was up at 4:20 something and hyped on caffeine/gummy vitamins (delish!) _

_Taken me two days to write, I have survived on a diet of M&Ms, almonds, and Diet Pepsi. I LIVE!_

Chapter 4- Sunflowers and Swords

9:37 ish AM Bag End

May 7 2014 Aria Time -(I am soo bored of keeping time and dates, I'll leave it to Gandalf. After all I am praised for my excellent sense of guessing the time. Sean said it was because I never sleep due to Netflix and fanfics.)

The garden was absolutely gorgeous. We sit on a lovely carved wooden bench with cast-iron details of leaves and acorns. Bilbo told me that his mother was very fond of sunflowers and poppies, which decorated the center of the yard in a circular pattern.

"She used to tell me stories of how my great-great-grandfather Ferumbas II once traveled to the outskirts of Harad. As you know Tooks are very curious and sometimes foolishly so. And there he met a Haradrim master of magic, 'Don't confuse a magician with a Wizard, my dear Bilbo' said my mother 'a magician is one of man-made magic, not pure like that of the Istari'.

Ferumbas was a Took through and through, for that he approached the Haradrim with a certainty of awe and introduced himself, for the magician was alone on an isolated path. The Haradrim called himself Loridrid, he was an outcast of his people due to being born under a dark moon, a bad omen in his tribe. Cast out, Loridrid sought out the teachings of healers and magic wielders, mastering them within the next year. Wandering the lands, healing the sick, the poor, and the unwanted. Wondering why of all the beings in Arda, why a hobbit was deemed worthy of his tale Ferumbas questioned him. Loridrid answered 'because I see your destiny, your soul, so pure and so curious,' Ferumbas had the decency to blush, ' I can tell that your future and that of your unborn kin will have the world to explore and courage is to be found in great measures for their destinies are intertwined with the fates of all.'"

I looked on enthralled with Bilbo's tale, urging him to continue. The winds have picked up and the smells of baked goods and honeyed meats scent the air. Warmth from the sun heats my back and sooths my aching soul. Feeling a kinship toward the Haradrim, the feeling of being unwanted, tainted by no making of our own, though finding the strength to keep going, to help others. Bilbo glances at me, reading my emotions, he concedes and continues his tale of magic and adventure.

"Ferumbas was the epitome of hobbitish shock, not in the way of distain and distrust, but of knowing the fates of his kin were to be grand and adventurous. The Tookish delight he took in having a destiny worth the whispers and rumors of the gossiping Hobbits of the Shire was grand. Loridrid then told him of stories he learned from his previous masters, of creatures made of fire, trees that spoke and roamed about, great Eagles flying in the heavens, and mischievous woodland faeries who live in flowers of the wilds.

They spoke well into the night, the light of the stars and silver path of the moon shone down upon them until at last Ferumbas fell asleep dreaming of eagles, faeries, and elves. Loridrid glanced down at the hobbit, knowing the fate of his kin, he whispers a prayer of fortitude and protection for his line. The sleeping hobbit dreamt only of the winding streams and rolling hills of the Shire.

Upon waking, Ferumbas realized he was indeed alone, nar a sight of hide nor hair of ever meeting a magician. Returning home, he found a satchel of sunflower and poppy seeds, recognizing them from Loridrid's description of their healing properties and wonderful scent. Planting them, he hoped a few faeries would claim them as home."

Finished with his tale, Bilbo glances around the garden, so the Tookish side DOES come out to play often. Smiling at him, I ask him, "So do you think you have a such a destiny?"

"Aria, it is just a story. I think I am much more suited to the life of a respectable hobbit, a Baggins of Bag End. Yes, indeed I am, why do you ask?" he questions with a hint of curiosity in his hazel eyes.

I take a deep breath of sweet grass and sunshine, I peek at Bilbo from the corner of my eye, before facing him directly, " I ask that Bilbo because I know that you have Tookish blood running through your veins. Adventure and curiosity are as much apart of you as the buttons on your waistcoat. Meaning that as both a Baggins and a Took you are a remarkable hobbit with hidden talents you have yet to unearth. I feel given the right time, you will find and make your own destiny whether or not it was predicted long ago. I believe in you Bilbo, because you're my friend and whether or not I ever go home, I am forever your friend."

Feeling a bit preachy, I shyly glance at Bilbo in case I offended him or something. Staring at me with teary eyes, I see a tiny hobbit lad roaming the forests, climbing trees looking for elves, waving sticks about fighting of evil foes. A young hobbit being told to stop gallivanting around and act respectably, not to cause gossip of any sorts by being wild. A hobbit who focused his adventurous spirit and curiosity of the world into reading books and drawing maps of places he'll only visit in stories. Who buried a part of himself in respectability and stiff manners of the gentle folk.

"Bilbo, I'm sorry i—", he cuts me off with a hug worthy of the dwarves. I hug back just as fiercely.

Pulling away from each other, smiling I ask where I might wash my clothes, after all I did roll down the might hobbit hills straight into a cow pie. I shudder with the memories. He directs me to the washbasin and starts off to haul over some water, not wanting him to do all the work, I tell him to relax and go into the front yard to catch some rays. Looking at me quizzically, he does as I tell him, grabbing his pipe and bag of weed, I mean tobacco.

Carrying my clothes after changing into the spare set, I get to work. Miming rolling up my sleeves, I grab the lavender soap and scrub my clothes. GAH! Why do the fanfics have their OC use lavender soap or whatever and have the dudes always fall off their horses when they smell them? I mean come on! This stuff smells like a grandmother, or even worse medicine. Seriously though when it's mixed with vanilla Snuggles style it's awesome, but by itself, no way in heck am I wearing it.

Calming or not, I feel a bit sleepy, after my rough night I pull my head out of the water for the third time. Hanging up my clothes on the line, I squeal over the tiny clothes pins he has! Hobbit stuff is sooo adorable!

Wondering how I'm not freaking out or hyperventilating or throwing Bilbo's mother's West Farthing dishes at him, I conclude that nothing much phases me anymore. Growing up the way I have, nothing ever does. Sean knows all about my history, after all I did give him a punch or two when we first met. Feeling a slight tug in my heart, I know he KNOWS I'm okay. We kind of have a weird twinsy telepathy thingy going on. Reminiscing over how we once were separated by my foster parents because they thought he was a bad influence we both sought out our secret fort and at the same time, I swear, suggest we runaway to the amusement park and live there. Eventually we were taken back home and grounded 'until I turn 50!' Chuckling over our crappy yet workable feelings of knowing just how the other fares I hear a very familiar smoky, grandfatherly voice.

"—do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?" spoke the tall wizard garbed in grey. Spying the grand wizard from the side of the house like a creeper in the summer, I compare him to the movie Gandalf. Hmm…interesting. This Gandalf appears more Gandalfy. He is way too tall for any ride at the amusement park, has greyer hair than something grey, just Gandalfy-er.

Laughing quietly at my horrible jokes, I snort loud enough to see that pointy hat turn my way. Trying to appear much more mysterious and worldly, I sober up and trip over the carrots. Covered in dirt, Bilbo looks at me in shock as if I performed one of the super illegal forbidden curses right in front of him. Trying to placate his feelings I scramble to attach the greeny thing back on top of the carrot, can you say epic fail?

I hear a deep chuckling sound off to my left, the smell of old Toby assaults my nostrils. Gandalf.

Standing straight, I look up, and up and up finally seeing the weathered face of an Ian McKellan look-a-like, I am totally expecting Sir Patrick Stewart to pop out from behind the wash taking a selfie in exquisite finery of a fedora and striped shirt. They are what Sean and I aspire to be.

"And just who might you be young lady? You do not appear to be of the Shire, for you lack the graceful footing of hobbits." He says sagely with a hint of a smile.

"Uhhh umm," I say intelligently. "Hi, I'm Aria. Last name is a bit odd, I mean I rarely tell anyone. But since you're like a super cool wizard and Billy Bob here doesn't know it yet, I'll tell ya. Because like Lady Galadriel will tell you anyway, she's like that, but super cool though, I'd totally invite her to my birthday party and stuff. She gives AMAZING gifts, except the hair thing, that was tad stalkerish but Gims is cool so it's s'okay," I take a deep breath after that crap monologue, I tend to talk a lot when I get nervous, surprise! Not really. Gandalf just stares at me as if I shared shrooms with Radagast and smoked all the Old Toby in Arda. Gah! Good impression Aria.

"Umm," I have seriously never in all my 24 years heard Gandalf speechless, unless you count the dwarves pestering him about his dragon slaying skillz.

"I mean you are a wizard and not going to go all Merlin on me, old school Merlin with the Metal cap and not the hot one who loves Arthur," I chuckle weakly, Gandalf just stares at me, while Bilbo feigns any knowledge of knowing me, " Wow! Okay, my last name is Edgewater. Aria Edgewater at you service, sir." I bow, thinking I screwed up because only the dudes bow, I try to curtsey which only ended with me twisting my legs into a mess and falling over in a heap. Gods help me if I act like this in front of the chilliest person in Middle Earth, what will I act like when I meet Thorin freakin' Oakenshield?

I get up and awkwardly whisper good-bye and give him a quick wave and handshake. Bilbo just tries to stifle his laughter and my butchered introduction into the wizard hierarchy. Thanks Bilbo, you will pay because I can eat you out of house and home!

Sitting in the dining room with my hand stuck in the cookie jar (literally) I enjoy the wonderful mint tea, courtesy of the Gamgees greenthumb. Bilbo rushes inside, closing the door swiftly, a bit harshly as well. "Hey! Billy Bob take it easy, that door was just painted a week ago." I say yawning to myself, I am weird like that, most stimulants and depressants have the opposite effect on me. Caffeine for instance makes me sleepy and later I get super hyper. Glancing out the tiny window by the door, Bilbo immediately jumps away as if hiding from someone.

Hearing a slight scratching sound, I yawn out, " that better come off. I am too tired to fix it, Bilbo be a dear and help me get this off my hand, please," I mutter sleepily.

"Oh dear!" exclaims Bilbo, "how on Middle Earth did you do this? You only left us for five minutes!" Tugging at the jar, it doesn't give any sign of coming off. "Well, it appears to be stuck rather snuggly. Just my luck I ran out of butter, I have yet to stop at the market to pick up some—Aria?" Bilbo asks.

Aria which tea canister did you use? Was it the one marked 'Mint-Chamomile'? Aria," he starts to laugh, seeing my drowsy state, " that tea is a sleeping draught. The 'Mint' tea is colored blue not purple. Haha!" I hear his belly-deep laugh and chuckle sleepily.

"Bilbo do you mind if I take a short nap? I'm afraid I can't keep my eyes open," before he could argue about the state of my hand I intervene, "my hand is fine, about as comfy as a Hungarian Horntail's golden egg, it won't cut off any circulation, it's just stuck, I'll be fine I promise. Go do your shopping and mingle. I'll be up before you come back, promise," I say with a hint of a smile, yawning.

Sighing in defeat, he tells me to not sleep on my hand and he'll be back as soon as he buys butter, I sense a hint of sadness when he tells me of his plan to use butter on my hand. Hmm, me too Bilbo, we should save it for the fish. I nod my head in agreement and make my way to the guest room. As I lay down I hear the door close and the darkness takes me prisoner. My last thought was that the tea could double as a horse tranquilizer, hehe! Horses in frilly dresses drinking tea out of tiny tea cups…haha…stupid…haha….

Walking to the Market in a hurry to purchase some butter from Farmer Maggot II, I spy a pointed grey hat. What did that wizard mean by adventure? I know that I yearn for adventure, my curiosity sometimes takes over, hence why I love long walking holidays, Frogmorton was indeed fun!

Maybe Aria was right, I am a Baggins _and_ also a Took. Maybe I do have hidden talents that are just waiting to make themselves known. Oh well, we'll never know shall we?

Hmmm, I wonder how she feels about fish for supper?

Scurrying across the dingy red carpet to escape his clutches, knowing that the more I run the worse it's going to hurt. Chuckling darkly, I realize the irony of having a red carpet, easier to hide spilt blood. Hitting the wall, flanked only by corners, I hear a deep voice caress my ear, "No where to hide, you should have stayed down."

I turn around to glare at him, concentrating all my hate on his handsome face. How could such evil and malice flow off of in waves from the face of a fallen angel? Deep hazel eyes hooded by a strong brow, edged in thick lashes that frame the masculine yet sharp cheekbones of a man who played with me in the rain, who made me feel so loved and cherished that I believed nothing bad could ever happen as long as he was around.

How could someone revert into something so animalistic, so sadistic that a 6 year old flinches with every word spoken and touch given, never feeling love, only a gut wrenching urge to runaway and never look back.

Grabbing a fistful of hair I scream from the pain that radiated from my skull to my neck. Throwing me across the floor I land awkwardly on my wrist. Crying in agony I curl into a ball, wishing the pain would just stop, that it would all stop, that my mom would wake back up, his fists never hold back. Starting from his attack, he rushes towards me, leaning down to ask, "Are you alright, sweetie? Are you hurt?"

I don't respond, knowing that his games are just that, games. Harshly grabbing my wrist in relished retaliation to my refusal to answer, I try to muffle my cries, I force my pain into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind, where all things end up.

"God damn it! Now I have to take you to the hospital, why can't you just listen and do as I say!" Running his strong, slender hands through thick black hair he picks me up and as our 'Father-Daughter Outing' routine I tell the doctor I fell from a tree.

Driving home, I feel nothing, I stay quite, keeping it all inside. Emotions only complicate things and makes them worse.

Waking up from old memories that plague my dreams are the worst part of the nights, I sigh deeply remembering it's all in the past and I am in the present. I have Sean and Bilbo, new memories to make and dream of. I cover my face with my hands, rudely finding out that the part of having my hand stuck in a jar wasn't apart of the dream. Oww. Rubbing my head, I walk out of the room, my bare feet lightly padding towards the dining area. Old lessons die hard.

Spotting Bilbo turning what looks like fish and smells like heaven in the skillet, props to a man who knows how to cook.

"Mmm! Billy Bob why do you not have a mob of hobbit chicks after you?" I question, "You are soo an eligible bachelor who has it all down and you got it going on! I mean have you looked in a mirror lately? You are so getting a rose from me," I say brightly with a nod both my hands on my hips.

"Uhh, thank you?" he blinks at me confused and a hint of a blush blooms on his cherubic cheeks. So adorable as always! "Would you like some dinner now? I was going to wake you but you seemed to be sleeping very deeply, I must say I'm sorry I didn't warn you of the effects of the tea," he looks at me apologetically through his curly lashes.

"No problem Bilbo, no apologies necessary. It was my own fault for ransacking your kitchen, haha, umm…Bilbo? Dinner sounds like a grand idea but do you perhaps think you could help me get this off my hand?" I ask waving the jar around the room as if I'm a flight attendant demonstrating the inner working of a hobbit hole.

Jumping up from his position by the fire, he goes into the pantry returning with a spoonful of precious butter to work the jar off my hand. It feels like a sauna inside, I have to admit that my hands get sweaty when I'm nervous or scared, and that dream didn't help much. Spreading it around my hand and into the crevices of the jar he starts to twist and turn the jar, while simultaneously pulling.

Grunting with the effort of pulling my hand, the butter melts and rolls down the sides of the jar resulting in Bilbo accidentally letting go and me smacking myself in the face.

"Oww! Oh Gods that hurt! Ow! Ow! Ow! OWW!" I dance around in vain that it might help with the pain. Good thing my skull is a bit thick, after a few seconds the pain vanishes. Smiling down at Bilbo, I notice that he's avoiding eye contact.

"Hey, what's the matter? Did dinner get cold?" I tease to try to lighten his somber mood.

His lips lift a bit and his eyes crinkle at the corners before he says, " I thought I hurt you."

"What? No, Bilbo it wasn't your fault or anyone else's. No you don't get to blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault, the only thing you get to do is sit down, relax and let me finish cooking," I declare, while nudging him with the jar. He breaks out into a laugh and grabs the jar with both hands and tugs. Surprisingly my hand is mine again and he places the cookie jar on the mantle.

"Now, where do I start? Is that the spatula thing? Do I turn the fish now?" I question him without giving him a chance to speak. "I mean I make a mean enchilada but that's about it besides Hotpockets."

"What's an 'enchil-laa-daa'? Aria, how about you just slice the lemons, okay? The fish should be about done," He gestures toward the citrusy fruits of destruction. I'll never forget the time the juices squirted into my eyes in my sad attempt to make homemade lemonade. "Okay," I say eyeing them with suspicion and wariness. Bilbo snorts at my hesitation with the knife.

Five minutes later

We sit down ready to dig into the scrumptious meal Bilbo and I cooked. What? Why are you looking at me like that? Fine, he cooked and I delicately slice the lemons and not at all butchered them like the nefarious beings they are.

Right as our wrists were poised to pierce the flaky, buttery goodness there was a harsh knock on the door, as if the knocker had knuckles made of metal, most likely iron if I remember this part of the story correctly. Practically bouncing in my seat, knowing that it is not like that fanfics where the dwarves immediately become chummy with the OC. These dwarves are real live people. They are more than just characters and storylines now, they are actually headed here as of this moment to party hardy and recruit Billy Bob!

Literally hyperventilating I excuse myself as I try to find a bag to breathe in, no luck so I stick my head between my knees. Bilbo asks if I am well, I just flap my hands to shoo him to the door.

Upon opening it poor Bilbo was met with the sight of a rather rugged and rough dwarf.

"Dwalin at your service!" said a gruff, gravely voice.

"Bilbo Baggins at yours," stated the confused bunny Bilbo.

Staring at him from the hallway like the creeper I am, I see him size up Bilbo, then just a quickly he locks eyes with me. Crap. Trying to play off my stalkerish tendency to not breathe or blink, I straighten up and walk forward only to end up tripping over Bilbo's mother's glory box. Damn thing.

"And who are you lassie?" he calls out to me, I stumble slightly as I get up and offer an awkward smile, "I'm Aria Edgewater, at your service," I try to curtsey, remind me to never do that again as I tilt over just in time for Bilbo to catch me. Dwalin just smirks, nods his acknowledgment and stomps toward our wonderful dinner saying something about someone promising a feast. Oh boy, and I really like fish.

Feeling an aura of utter disbelief and slight despair to my right, I turn to Bilbo to let him know I'm a bit sad about dinner, but as my mother used to say 'always help those who need it and those who don't'. Sensing my growing hunger, he marches over to Dwalin who appreciates the good food and asks for more, Bilbo discreetly steals a few biscuits for us to feast on in the confusion. Before he could answer Dwalin, another knock on the door steals his attention, this one is slightly more polite.

Opening the door, I stand behind Bilbo ready to catch him if he faints from starvation, highly unlikely though, I saw him sneak test bites of dinner, lucky. "Hello," Bilbo says hesitantly.

"Good evening, Balin at your service," bowing slightly his attention shifts over to me, this is like meeting Mark Gatiss, utterly astoundingly kind and polite yet you feel the urge to earn their approval because they are so fucking awesome. "Hi, I'm Aria Edgewater, um at your service," I reply intelligently.

Spotting his brother with his hand stuck in the cookie jar he walks over to greet him.

"Hmmm great minds think alike," I muse to Bilbo who still can't believe he has dwarves, unwanted but not uninvited, in his quite home. Oh man, he is so going to have greyer hair than Gandalf by the time he shows up. Marching off to sort matter of the pantry with the dwarves, yet another knock rattles the door, seeing that Bilbo is weirdly apologizing I laugh quietly and open the door.

Standing not two feet in front of me are the most pretty dwarves I've ever seen. Granted that I am a few inches taller than them, I ignore that. I pretty much find everyone attractive, if it's awesome then automatic love. In the midst of my crazy brain-splosion I totally miss their introduction and squeak out a, "huh?"

Fortunately Bilbo has arrived to yet again save me from my graceful self, the brothers introduce themselves as, "Fili and Kili, at your service," they smile and break my heart with their attractiveness and amazing hair. Hair porn guys, that is all that will be on my headstone. Smirking to myself I barely hear Kili ask if Bilbo is a "Mr. Boggins," and nearly cry in relief when Bilbo tells him that nothing has been cancelled.

They strut in with more swag than Kanye, (they pull it off without looking douchey too, der they're princes, automatically born with swag).

Thrusting their weapons into Bilbo's arms they glance around and Kili proceeds to use the blasted glory box as a floor mat. Sighing I take their weapons and place them where I won't fall on them. Once they get comfy they turn to me, questioning gazes burn into the back of my head. Turning around I offer a bow (easier than a damned curtsey) and introduce myself yet again. Does Middle Earth have a 'Hi, my name is..' tag I can wear? Offering their services, I accept and offer to get Bilbo a cup of tea to sooth his oh so weary soul. The two princes wander the house in search of the sons of Fundin, with the racket they're making it makes the search easier.

"Bilbo? Are you okay? Do you want me to tell them to leave? I can if you want," I whisper, not really wanting them to go.

Sighing wearily, he wipes his face, metaphorically of course, free of frustration, "No, they can stay. My father and mother would be appalled if I ever turned away a guest from Bag End. I have an inkling the creator of this confusion will arrive any minute."

"I'm sure, until then you rest and eat while you can. Dwarves are hearty and sturdy beings, they don't get that way by feasting on carrots and greens," I joke making his lips curl upwards. Dwalin tells the boys to help him move the dining table to an area where ALL of them can fit. Uh oh. Before I can interrupt them, a knock is heard by all followed by loud mumbles, suddenly the door bursts open to reveal 8 more dwarves and a certain meddling wizard. Just who I wanted to speak to, as I have gotten over my awkwardness, I approach him.

"Umm Gandalf…can I speak to you in private please?" I ask while Bilbo fusses over the dwarves raiding his pantry and home.

Giving me a kind smile, he glances at the chaos of his making and lets out a few chuckles, "Certainly, Miss Edgewater, shall we sit in the garden?" I nod in agreement.

By now the sun has set leaving the moon to walk her paths in the dark. The stars shine in joy and offer what light they have to guide us to the bench. Taking a deep breath I tell Gandalf my story. From how I insulted a killer in another world to meeting Bilbo to falling in cow poop and how we became fast friends. I leave little room for him to ask his mystical wizard questions.

"Well," he says while pulling out his already lit pipe from his Mary Poppins sleeve of wonder, " That is quite a story," before I could protest that it is a matter of fact true, he raises his hand in defense, "I am by no means disregarding its origins of truth, I can plainly see it by the very clothes you wear and manner of speech."

I forgot I was wearing pants and modern clothes! God! What did the dwarves think? Was I a loose woman by all means that I wear pants and not a dress? No, they would just be polite and assume I was traveling in disguise, I hope. Oh man.

"Hehe," I laugh meekly, " Umm well I guess this was easier than I thought. Your taking this rather well, heck so am I. Can I ask why do you think I ended up here instead of drowning in the river?" I ask him.

"That is a question that I cannot really answer," he says hurriedly, ex-squeeze me? "But I know that for whatever reason there is, the Valar sought you out to involve you in their plans. It is a great destiny you have been given," he says in his wise old man voice. Gosh. The Valar are basically, well, the Gods of Middle Earth and I guess whatever they say goes.

"Okay, sounds reasonable, better than my version of Mary Sueing it out here and raising a brood of wild wargs, hehe just kidding. But can't you like 1-800 it to Lady Galadriel and find out what happens and how I get home, not that I have one I just have my friend Sean there I'd like to contact."

"How do you know of the Lady Galadriel?" he raises his brows suspiciously at me.

Shit. Okay, I can tell him about Tolkien and the books and movies, right? Yeah, go for it. What? Look at me, talking to myself, I am insane. Nah, you aren't just intelligent, isn't that what the docs say? What? Meh, guess. Agreeing with myself, I let out a snort. Crap. The Wizard is staring at me. Act cool. Sure, on it.

"Sorry about that, just…thinking of food," I say glancing at the dwarves terrorizing poor Bilbo through the window. "Actually, it's a funny story, not really, more like a real story that turns out to become reality." I discreetly spill the beans about Tolkien writing the books, telling him the Hobbit is a really swell book, (crying inside about the end, leaving that part out since I intent to change it), keeping the part about LOTR to myself and the finding of the One Ring. The more I tell him the wider his eyes get and as I finish he stares off into the distance, thinking deeply. Not wanting to disturb him I sit silently until he speaks softly, "Aria you must tell no one what you have told me, I feel that if you were, grave danger may come upon us and threaten our quest. Promise me?"

"I promise." Sighing in relief, he rises and tells me he will now check on Bilbo. I choose to sit outside for a bit more, I think of Sean and our crazy adventures. Feeling a bit perkier, I rise to take down my dry clothes; folding them I catch a lively melody of singing dwarves and blunting knives. Great, I missed the fun part, I missed Bombur catching the egg in his mouth! Huffing in annoyance at myself I start to hum Lana Del Rey's version of "Once Upon a Dream". I have a crappy singing voice but my humming can bring a church choir to tears.

Lost in the tune, I literally feel the silence suspended in the warm night air. Gathering my clothes in my arms I head back to the front door, not watching where I was going, as I was looking at the ground to avoid anymore wayward carrots, I bump in a rock, a warm and velvet-y soft rock. Rubbing my nose, I glance up into a sea of clashing waves, thundering skies, and strong winds. Into eyes that change color in the blink of an eye, assessing me as a very poor threat and a more than likely danger to _myself_, he looks into my eyes again down his majestic nose, (the eyes and nose, omg…ahh the feels) and says in his velvety, smoky, oh so thunderous voice, "If you keep your mouth open any longer birds may nest," he says with a smirk of arrogance, that little smart-ass comment receives more laughs than Bilbo's insult. I could help but turn red, thank the Gods my bronze skin hide most of the shade. Why you little—ready to give him a taste of his own medicine Gandalf gives me a look that basically reads ' screw-this-up-now-and-I-will-feed-you-to-the-moths –that-I-call-the-Eagles-with' look. Huffing in defiance, I turn to face the oh-so-majestic-joker. "Greetings, Master Dwarf. Find your way alright? It wasn't too much trouble I hope." I say with a slight pull on my lips and a fire in my eyes. Two can play at this game.


	5. Update

_**Sooo sorry guys! I know I haven't updated like I said I would, I promise I will as soon as possible it's just that school started and my instructors gave me a crapload of work. Plus my computer is out of commission and I have to wait two to three weeks for another when I have my funds on hand, oh Mahal!**_

_**So again I am sorry, please don't forget me and I give you cookies of peace. Plus it's Richard Armitage's birthday so CONGRATS TO HIM! May all his wishes and dreams come true, I wish him peace and happiness.**_

_**So in two to three weeks I will write a super long chapter for you! For now I wish you all luck in your endeavors and in life, I hope your dreams come true and I'm off to eat a Hotpocket.**_

_**If you have any ideas you'd like to contribute or questions, comments or concerns PM me, don't be shyyy...**_


	6. Chapter 5

_Okay lovelies I apologize but I could not wait for my laptop to arrive soooo I __stole__ borrowed my brother's laptop so hopefully all the punishment I will get would be to give him a foot rub, eww. The sacrifices I make. Anywho, this week is my town fair and parade so I will smell of cigarette smoke and grease, how lovely. I wailed around my house for ages due to not being able to write, though I just got my Thorin PoP! figure who protects my room and jewelry box._

_Without further adieu here is the new chapter and we finally see how Thorin reacts to Aria's teasing. Heheheheheehehehehe!_

_All by Tolkien except my OC, too bad he called dibs already._

Chapter 5- Oh How the Lame have Fallen

Time: meh, ask Gandalf

"_Greetings, Master Dwarf. Find your way alright? It wasn't too much trouble I hope." I say with a slight pull on my lips and a fire in my eyes. Two can play at this game._

The only thing that I hear in the dead silence was a snicker that was quickly covered up by Kili when his oh-so-majestic uncle threw him a glare, which he then cast onto me. Not one to shrink from a challenge I glare right back, sensing the oncoming battle of stubbornness Gandalf decides to intervene. Giving me a chastising look, he nudges me forwards with his staff and closes the door, "you're letting in a draft," he mutters, ugh men, as I move I try my best to maneuver around the hulking mass of fur and armor only to end up stuck in right in the middle of the room. Clutching my clothes closer to my body I shift from foot to foot.

"Miss Aria, I would like to introduce Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of our Company," he says with a hint of a hidden secret in his voice, he wouldn't be Gandalf without it. Giving a quick nod of my head in acknowledgement, I sneak a quick look out of my peripherals, resulting in seeing absolutely nothing. Cursing to myself, I take a deep inhale and look him straight in the eyes, from all my bleak observations of humanity I've realized that a person's soul can be road-mapped through their eyes. Cliché I know but honestly it is true, Scouts honor. What I saw can't really be described, it's as if he has his shields up and the emotions that he has suppressed have run amok. A bit like trying to catch smoke, every single one is fleeting before you realize what it was. Honestly this dwarf is a conundrum wrapped in a riddle.

Noticing that I have been staring into the face of their king for the last couple minutes I shake my head trying to get back to reality. I introduce my self, "Nice to meet you Master Oakenshield, I am Aria Edgewater," I attempt my curtsey while I see Bilbo cringe away a bit. Stifling my chuckle, I smirk. Once I reach my full height again, I take in that I am only 3 inches taller than Thorin, given that I have my shoes on, this dwarf can make even the tallest person feel smaller, he has skillz. Then he puffs up his fur covered chest (ahh fangirling) ready to start the interrogation.

"What weapon do you prefer: axe or sword?" he questions darkly in his smooth chocolate-ty voice. Scrutinizing my worth and circling me like a predator stalking its prey, I gulp.

"Uhh… I can use a dagger (okay a pocket knife…same thing right? One just folds) I mean don't you just stick em with the pointy end? Hehe…" the Company and Thorin give me the is-she-serious-look. I decide to make myself more skilled than I actually am by declaring that I can defend myself just as well as anyone accustomed to traveling alone in the Shire, which does not give them any hope in me at all. Huffing in the midst of their snickers and jokes, the best one was "I'm sure the lass can defend herself from unsavory characters, I did think those cattle were a bit suspicious", I am too embarrassed to say they have indeed won in the fight by association, see cowpie.

Ready to get on with the serious Company/Dragon/Adventure convo stuff Thorin barks out an order in start business. Glaring at me for taking up too much time, he sits down at the head of the table, he has a certain questioning look in his eye that definitely means 'we will talk later puny human', I am in trouble.

Bilbo forever the most generous host brings over a bowl of stew and some bread and a mug of ale for Thorin. While all the dwarves silently wait to hear the news Thorin has brought, I take a seat in the corner near the exit, just in case…of something. Watching the dwarves smoke and converse quietly I find my attention to be focused on how to convince them to take me with them or how to follow them without causing my accidental death along the way. Knowing how my body can betray me I conclude that I might as well end up impaling myself on a sword or a ladle, who knows?

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" asks Balin.

"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin replies to the cheering of the Company. "All of them," exclaims Balin.

"And what do the dwarves from the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" a heavy Scottish brogue questions. Oh boy, that little shit Dain, he is so no bueno at all.

Dead Silence. "They will not come," mutters Thorin, at least he thinks his cousin is a crap ally too, for now. With this crap news the dwarves murmur amongst themselves in disappointment. "They say this quest is ours and ours alone," a deep rumble escapes from his chest. Insert more murmurs and more disappointment, I see a pattern here, the soft lighting is doing wonders with this moody atmosphere, I need to invest in candles. Thorin, I think is a stress eater, after his announcement he grumpily yet majestically spoons stew into his majestic mouth. Or he is just hungry from travel.

I would be hungry too, starving really if I traveled for a shitty response from my people, its understandable that the dwarven envoys would decline his quest, because it's a fucking dragon, Danerys could handle that shit but I mean at least give something at least. Mithril armor (possible more than one shiny shirt in Arda) would be cool, or even a tiny army, 300 that shit, right? While I am off in my own world in the corner comtemplating gift giving, Bilbo pipes up.

"You're going on a quest?"

Gandalf being the crafty wizard that he is request Bilbo to get more light, I mean you can have so many candles until you have a blazing fire, or wait nevermind there's only like 2 candles on fire, crisis averted. Whew.

"Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak," Gandalf says wisely and wizardly while unfolding a map, like THE MAP of freakin EREBOR!

"The Lonelyyy Mountainnn," slowly enunciated by Bilbo who surprise has another cool candle, I am a tad bit afraid he might catch Thorin on fire or drip wax on him or something because he is quite close to him. Gandalf could handle that since he has badass Fire Bending powers, luckily there is no need, I am just being paranoid of fire, again. Story for another time.

More talk of portents, majestic hair, iron jackseys, insults, knitwear, map secrets, princes computing data, Gandalf being tongue tied and major shouting matches. The shouting part makes my hands shake, sweat break out on my forehead, so I squeeze my eyes shut and take deep breaths. Why oh why must my memories be triggered in the most unlikely situations? Gandalf notices this as does Bilbo while the dwarves remain ignorant, except Thorin who tilts his head in a questioning way then turns to the Company to silence them with a shout in Khuzdul. I flinch a bit, ashamed of my moment of weakness, I get up and head for the garden, ignoring the looks of the Company. Murmurs of Erebor and keys and hidden doors fade out as I taste the floral and crisp night air. Sitting down in my coveted garden bench I bring my knees up under my chin. Shouts of happiness ring through the windows and yet it suddenly dies away. Wrangling my thoughts in order and reminding myself I am in the present and not the past when suddenly the wind picks up and shadows overtake the glow from the dining area. Curiously I decide to man-up and go investigate. Tiptoeing my way through the very sharp weapons laid around the entry way as neat as can be I hear Gandy explain,

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, in fact they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage," Gandalf smartly replies. " You've asked me to find the 14th member of this Company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins, and hopefully a 15th member in Miss Aria," he says with a twinkle in his eye.

Thorin gives me a critical glare as well as Dwalin who basically declares I am gentle, therefore weak and cannot fend for myself in the wild, sort of true but I am tough and will not give up for anything. I decide that if there is a time to prove my worth, it is probably now, like right now. Straightening my spine and lifting my head higher I reply lowly, "Weak and gentle I am not Master Dwarves. I have had my fair share of battles and yet I am still here. I can take any amount of pain, give people reasons to fear me, and I am not afraid to die. I promise my loyalty, my honor and I will not cease until you claim what is rightfully yours," I see slight acceptance yet a challenge in his eyes as he takes in my response. I look at all the seated dwarves with defiance and fire in my eyes, when I get to Thorin I see a strange emotion in his eye for just a moment before it is gone.

I huff and with one last glimpse of Gandalf I see a proud and satisfied gleam in his eyes, Bilbo breaks the tension by trying to deny his burglar skills whilst Balin explains the contract while Thorin thrusts it into his tiny Hobbit hands. I decide to walk into the sitting room trying to calm my heart and head. The fire crackles out an unheard melody in my ears. Hearing a thud I hear Gandalf chastise Mr. Bofur for being a complete butt abet a hilarious one. Seeing Bilbo lying out cold on the hardwood I immediately throw the dwarves my most severe scowl, the one I give Sean for eating my last Hotpocket, and growl out, "What have you done?" while protectively covering Bilbo's unconscious self like a mamma wolf protecting her pup. Garnering wary looks from some dwarves, especially Dori who pushes Ori behind him.

Before Thorin can even throw out his majestic temper and fling shade around Gandalf calmly tells me that Bilbo fainted while reading the contract and from some very descriptive comments from an anonymous dwarf, who then decides to smiles and waves. I close my eyes and count to 10 in my language. If you haven't already guessed, I am half Spainish, HE was from Madrid and half Native American from my mother, which is Navajo, I _am_ from New Mexico.

I open my eyes and I ask Bofur to help me move Bilbo to the sitting room, he happily agrees and we heave-ho to the sofa in front of the warm fire. Once we put Bilbo down comfortably, I tuck him in with a throw blanket. I sigh.

"Miss Aria, I deeply apologize for causing Mr. Baggins to faint, my thought ran away on me," Bofur says sheepishly in his Irish accent, which has a hint of mischief and a happy sparkle in his eyes. Looking contrite and adorable in his flappy hat, I give.

"It is I who should apologize for acting out of turn Mister Bofur, Bilbo is my dearest and closest friend, if anything harms him my first instinct is to attack first and question later, if you understand my meaning," I answer quickly, this is one of the few times they get to enjoy free time and traquility during this quest, I don't want to deprive them of what little they will have. "I didn't mean to be so dramatic, sometimes my instincts kick in before I have a chance to assess the situation."

"I understand lass, I have my brother and cousin on this quest as well, I guess we are both even, eh? I would have done the same, we dwarves protect our own, always, I'm surprised your not a dwarf," He claps me on the shoulder and makes a face to make me smile, my stone façade breaks with a quick grin, laughing heartily we set Bilbo up nicely and head back to the group, who already decided to find places to relax and talk. Bofur decides to speak with his brother Bifur about a new toy idea. I head off to find ol' G-Dog.

Thinking I would find him smoking outside on the bench, I close the door intent on asking about the quest. A bit hesitant to seek out Thorin first, I know I am a bit of a chicken when it comes to confronting calmly and not when I am angered. Can you say tempermental? Spotting smoke rings in the dark my path was lit by tiny fireflies flying without a care in the world.

Only when I look up from the path I realize that Galdalf must have shrunk two feet and dyed his hair majestic black and added silver highlights or it must be Thorin Oakenshield. Oh boy. Before I could tuck tail and run away, he gestures for me to sit without turning towards me. I do.

"Miss Aria Edgewater, is it? A peculiar name," he asks condescendingly, I nod knowing it will only get worse from here, crap, dude is just trying to psyche me out, no such luck kemosabe, " why should I allow a woman on this quest who pledges her loyalty in one moment only to become a threat in another? This I cannot have, I do not know who you are, where you come from and what your intentions are towards this quest and my company, these uncertainties must be dealt with accordingly, do you understand?" he commands with such intensity I just nod in acceptance. I must get Thorin to trust me and allow me to travel with them without telling of my knowledge of the books/movies, I have to save the line of Durin because they are all one another has, Dis including. So I suck up my nerves and answer back with,

"Yes sir, my name is Aria Edgewater, it is not at all peculiar, it is the translation of my peoples clan," he then graces me with his gaze, wanting an explanation, oh well might as well go all out, "if I tell you of my origins can you promise to give me the benefit of the doubt first?" he nods for me to continue, "umm, as you can tell by my attire I am not really from around here. I come from another world so to speak, some thousand years into the future, where only Men exists. My people are quite similar in appearances to the Haradrim, though all races of Men exist too, we are of the Tabahaa, the Edgewater people clan. I am of two races, the Spanish and the Navajo. I know this is a lot to take in but stay with me please? I'm not quite sure how I ended up here but I prefer this to being murdered by a killer," at this admission he tightens his hold on his pipe, remembering how dwarves cherish their women I hesitantly pat his hand awkwardly and take my hand back when he stiffens, clearing my throat I continue, "anyways I end up in Hobbiton only to crash a hobbit party," he smirks at this, "long story short Bilbo took a bumbling outsider in and we became friends. Don't get angry but Gandalf knows my story too, he thinks that I might find my answers if I go with you on this quest," I finish hurriedly.

Thorin remains quiet and puffs on his pipe, silently judging my story and my sanity. "Miss Edgewater, as insane as your story appears I must converse with Gandalf and Mister Balin first. We will decide whether you will be a help or a hindrance, make no mistake if you are to come you will be treated no differently than any other member. You will work and take shift, cook and set up camp, and listen to me, am I clear?" I hear his deep voice declare. I nod. Before he leaves I speak up,

"Mister Thorin? I am sorry I appeared a threat to your men, but I am not sorry for protecting my friend," I reply defiantly, "I will promise that I will give the same amount of loyalty to the company and to yourself, I will willingly die for any member of this company," his shocked expression is quickly covered up. "Because you have a great destiny laid ahead of you, I will help you fulfill it to the end."

Giving me a head tilt of majestic appreciation he walks off to converse with his posse about my going with them. I have a feeling it will all turn out for the better. As soon as he leaves, I feel the chill breeze, no wonder he had me sit here, he was my wind blocker. I knew he wasn't as douche-y as I thought he was, he's just a big ol' teddy bear but one who can still kill you in a blink of an eye. I snort from the image I have in my head. Walking inside I hear Billy Bob and Gandalf talking about his awesome uncle of badassery.

"Can you promise I will come back?" I hear a hint of knowing in Bilbo's voice, poor hobbit, he just wanted to eat his dinner and now he has to choose his comfy home or the greatest adventure he'll ever know.

After a few beats, "No, but if you do you'll not be the same," Gandalf states sagely.

Leaning my back against the doorframe, I sigh, silently repeating my vow to protect Bilbo to the Gods. Making my grand entrance to dissolve the tension in the room I ask to speak to Bilbo, knowing that Thorin and Balin were able to hear what was said between the hobbit and wizard.

"Excellent, well I am off to see if Mister Dori has anymore wine to spare, good night Bilbo, Miss Aria," he leaves soundlessly, as quite as a fluff of dust.

"Hi Billy Bob, are you feeling any better? That was some fall you took," I tease, hoping it will make him smile, it does.

"Yes, I am quite alright, we Baggins' have a reputation of thick skulls I'll have you know young lady," he remarks lightly with a smile gracing his lips. "Aria?"

"Hmm? What'cha got on your mind?" I question in concern, seeing the puzzled expression on his face.

"Why do you want to go on this quest? It's dangerous and full of perils for a woman to even think about going on. Why do you want to help them?" he asks quietly, not to offend the dwarves who might hear but because he wants to understand why I would go with no concern for my safety.

"I have no family, as you know Bilbo, I know pain because it has been my friend since childhood, I stand alone in life, though people like you and Sean make me realize that sometimes being alone is…rather lonely," I say with a shrug, " I would die for any of my friends, I hope in accepting me in their endeavor, that perhaps Thorin and the company might consider me to be a friend, because I already consider them all to be. And as for my intentions, I have never known a home and its warmth or a family and its love, and I want them to have a place to call home, to bring their families to live and to grow. I want them to be happy and have hope. Because in the end that is all we have."

"Oh Aria, I wish I could have your courage," he muses, "you do in fact have family, didn't you know?" I tear my gaze from the flames to look at him. "I consider you to be like a daughter, one I never had," he says confidently, my heart catches in my chest, I stare into his eyes searching for any signs of deception, all I see is truth and warmth shining from his eyes. Not knowing what to say, feeling a bit lost and also a tingle of longing that has sparked into belonging I throw my arms around Bilbo and give him a fierce hug.

Chuckling in merriment, I pull away, "Aria you are always welcomed here, and if you would like you are welcome to live here with me. It may be small, though we can always fix that. I just hope you come back from the quest safely, I for one am too much of a Baggins from Bag-End to leave for days on end," he whispers conspiratorially with a hint of longing in his voice.

"My dear Bilbo, I am most grateful for your offer, but I have a feeling I may not be coming back," I reply softly, knowing in my heart that this is true, he throws me a saddened gaze, " I have a hunch that my destiny lies with these dwarves and I was brought here for a reason. I promise that I will do my utmost to make sure I do come back, because no one can quite cook like you," I laugh quietly. "Bilbo you may not have a courage that rivals my foolish pride, but I think you have a courage of a different sort. In time you will find that you are indeed braver than I could ever hope to be. I hope you will consider this quest, Gods know I can't go anywhere without my trusty burglar," I tease. Bilbo blushes shyly, putting down his teacup, he begins to rise and bid me goodnight. After a brief hug, we part ways. Sinking down into the fluffy armchair I close my eye and drift off to the sound of a crackling fire. Feeling eyes on my face, I just grab the discarded blanket and snuggle in.

****_okay… I think this may have been a bit of a cheesey chapter but a chapter nonetheless. I was thinking of writing a Thorin POV for the next chapter, what do you think? I tried not to make him too OOC. As always, reviews are appreciated!****_


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